


mirrored glass

by fuckingspacequeen



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Loneliness, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckingspacequeen/pseuds/fuckingspacequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, alone, flips through the address book on his phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mirrored glass

**Author's Note:**

> All apologies for the possible (probable) horribleness of this bit of writing.
> 
> Many thanks, as always, to my lovely beta watching-us-fall. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

John, alone, flips through the address book on his phone.

Ella had told him that if he ever felt like he was reaching breaking point, he could call her.

And if he didn’t feel like he could talk to her, he should try calling a friend.

John knows he’s far past breaking point, but he’s a soldier, and he does what soldiers do best: he soldiers on.

He stops scrolling as he gets to _Greg Lestrade_.

After Sherlock’s… after the funeral, Greg had given John his mobile number and told him to call if he ever needed anything. John had never had any intention to do so, and they both knew it.

_Harry._ John pauses. Can’t help it, really. Sherlock had been right, in the end, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. John was the one to bail her out in the morning when she’d been arrested for being drunk and disorderly. He hadn’t bothered to go up there in person. She hadn’t bothered to thank him for it. Calling her to talk about anything is out of the question.

_Mike Stamford._ John stops scrolling again, gazes unseeingly at the screen, and remembers the first time Mike introduced him to Sherlock. He won’t call. He can’t.

_Molly Hooper._ His thumb hovers over the green call button. He could call her. She’d understand, wouldn’t she? But she hadn’t even attended the funeral, a voice reminds him; maybe she wouldn’t understand after all.

_Mrs. Hudson._ She’s not just downstairs, anymore. She’d attempted to talk to him, in the beginning. But the way John had barely been able to form words, five day beard beginning to cover his chin, had told her all she’d needed to know. He’s not sure how she ended up with a key to his new apartment, but she makes a point of coming over once a week to bring him food. He tells her she doesn’t have to, and she ignores him. There’s no point calling her when she already knows, is there?

_Mycroft Holmes._ Pausing again, John can’t ignore the surge of anger boiling in his chest. Mycroft has been mysteriously absent since his brother’s…since Sherlock…John last saw him at the funeral. They didn’t speak. Mycroft couldn’t even meet his gaze. In the beginning, he suspected that Mycroft was getting Greg to spy on him. Now, he can’t bring himself to care. Instead of hitting _call_ , he hits _delete._ The phone flashes once, and then John finds Mycroft’s name satisfyingly absent from his phone.

From there, a myriad of names of ex-girlfriends, or girls he’s dated, come up. One by one, John deletes them, until he gets down to one name.

_Sarah._ He sees her every day at the hospital. They still smile at one another. They’re still friends. She asks him if he’s okay, if he’s getting enough sleep, and he tells her that he’s fine. Neither of them believes that, and he goes back to work. He won’t call her. It’s not his place to do so.

There’s only one name left in his contact list now, and it’s one that John can’t delete. Sometimes he thinks about doing it, about wiping the slate clean and getting a new start. But he’s not really sure that’s possible. He’s already had a second chance at life. He’s not sure he’s going to get a third.

_Sherlock._ John sits and looks at the name. For how long, he isn’t sure. It could be a minute, or five minutes, or ten minutes. He feels numb with the pain; so very, very tired; aching.

In the end, he decides to take Ella’s advice after all.

He just sends one text, to one phone number.

_I miss you._

 


End file.
